Once upon a time, in a land not so far away from a hotel room Lindsay Lohan was likely trashing, a mother wondered if she was scarring her 4-year-old daughter with too much talk of horror. (I would be the mother in this equation. Stay with me here) She wondered how to explain to a little girl why Mommy and Daddy often spoke of a malevolent entity hibernating within an underwater city (NOT Lindsay Lohan, although I can understand the confusion) who had an octopus-like head, a scaly, rubbery-looking body, prodigious claws on its hands and feet, and long, narrow wings on its back. She further wondered how she would break the news that, one day, this colossal being would rise from the South Pacific and destroy all of humanity, all the while not giving a single fuck about our feelings. She then had to figure out how to explain to this little girl that Mommy and Daddy would continue to speak freely of this horrifying entity around the house in casual conversation, despite the fact that it might give her nightmares and traumatize her for life because… well, Mommy and Daddy are assholes, that’s why. They might even hang a picture or two in the living room, and read her stories from Mother Hydra’s Mythos Rhymes before bed, because nothing says ‘sweet dreams’ like “There was a cult that had a god and Dagon was his name-o” seeping into your subconscious as you doze off into dreamland.

And so the mother set about creating something that would indoctrinate the little girl into a world of horror that wouldn’t be so, you know, horrifying, and Angelina The Little Monster was born. The young daughter of Cthulhu and a mere mortal who obviously had some disconcerting dreams of being a fisherman’s wife, Angelina The Little Monster was a sweet, gentle little girl who went to school with regular kids, wondered if she’d ever get to meet her mottled father and tried to hide the tentacles on her head under hats and scarves. It was tough being different, but it was also sort of cool. Angelina was nothing like her mean old dad, which meant that her mean old dad might not be so mean after all. And just like that, the real Angelina got to know – and like – the fictitious Angelina and suddenly wasn’t so frightened anymore. She even drew pictures of Cthulhu and made birthday cards for H.P. Lovecraft, asking Mommy and Daddy to mail them to “Prov-n’-Dance’ on her behalf.

The mother was pleased and got back to plotting evil and applying lipstick, but then another thought popped into her head. That was one monster down, but what about Frankenstein? And what about werewolves and what about vampires? Mummies were scary, too, and so were ghosts. Would she have to come up with child-friendly versions of all those things as well? And then she thought that that wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. In fact, that might be a great idea. A million dollar idea, even. It was just too bad for Mommy that someone else had thought of it first.

Enter Garrett Sander, the creative genius behind Mattel’s wildly popular MONSTER HIGH franchise, a fashion doll line featuring the teenage offspring of some of the most famous (and feared) monsters the world has ever known. Together they shop at the maul, shake their pompoms for the casketball players on the Fearleading squad and try to not kill each other while studying for driver’s tests and planning sweet sixteen parties. So basically, Monster High isn’t much different from actual high school, which I remember being far more cutthroat.

daughter of Dr. Frankenstein’s monster and his bride. At 15 days old, Frankie is the youngest of the group and the newest ghoul in school. Frankie has mint green skin, a shock of black and white striped hair, bolts on her neck (which allow her to absorb electricity to use as energy to stay alive) and stitches all over her face and body. She also suffers from a condition known as heterochromia (I can relate) which gives her two different colored eyes – one green, one blue – although it’s more likely not a genetic disorder, but a symptom of being assembled from multiple bodies.

Because she’s new to the school, and to the world, really, Frankie doesn’t know much about anything and depends on her new friends to fill her in on clothes, boys and dealing with the parentals. She is a shy but friendly monster who is also a bit of a klutz, as her body parts tend to fly off easily. She sleeps in a bed that charges her overnight and avoids pool parties if she can help it because she short circuits when wet. She has a dog made from so many different breeds his pet license is several pages long. His name is Watzit and he sports stitches as well.